Blackfathom Deeps? More Like Blackfathom Balls Deep!
by His Excellency TeenageAngst
Summary: <html><head></head>I got bored and cranked out a WoW fanfic about an adventuring paladin named Jack Radical porking an elf.</html>


It was a foggy afternoon in Darkshore, well I guess it's always foggy in Darkshore. It was foggier than usual, how about that. I was sitting in what the Night Elves try to pass for an inn, open walls and all. The chilly breeze that blew off the ocean ran through the entire building. I sat there at a table, bundled under a blanket and reading through one of my librams, every so often glancing up at the stern-looking innkeeper. I hated Night Elves, I hated Night Elf lands, and I especially hated working for Night Elves. Everything about this contract had bad news written all over it. Like a really bad tabloid, or a drunk gnome on a mechanostrider in the oncoming lane. Then she appeared.

Every tavern has their furniture, even Night Elf inns. This is especially true in dock towns like Auberdine. You have the dockworkers who blow every copper they earn on swill, the local boozehounds, and of course, the working girls. Auberdine was special though. No Night Elf would have the indignation to work a racket where their own kind could look down on them and no self-respecting innkeeper would allow it. It takes a certain kind of pariah to exist below the judgmental scrutiny of the Night Elves while at the same time pulling off enough of an exotic allure to bring in some company every night. Enter Fiora Longears; as much a fixture as the drunken gnome upstairs or the constant drizzle on the floor. Fiora was a High Elf, one of the few still running around in Alliance lands. I wasn't too up on what all happened to them, but I knew they essentially sequestered themselves in what was left of Silvermoon after the Third War. Those that remained were either high-caliber mages or specialists. I guess Fiora fell into the latter category... technically.

She came towards my table, decked out in some skimpy leather armor she'd modified. Elves have an inherent sense of style and Fiora was no exception. As she strutted by I decided to do a little window shopping. Legs like a goddess, the kind of legs you just wanna stroke for hours, accented with leather straps and knee-high boots that were cut just right, giving the illusion she was wearing even less than she was. Fiora turned around and stopped by my side, leaning over just enough to give me a proper look down her tight leather shirt.

"Hey soldier, what brings you all the way out here?" she asked, making sure I got a good look at her firmly held yet half exposed rack, "we don't get too many humans out this way."

"Business," I responded.

Fiora laid her hands on my shoulders, her fingers finding their way under my armor to the skin at the back of my neck, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, sugar. Looks to me like you could use some company." She pulled a chair up and placed one of her fine gams on it, letting me take in the full view. Her breasts were nice, but her hips, those were the money makers, with a firm and strong ass to complete the package. As village bicycles go she was a Mekgineer's Chopper, begging to be ridden long and hard. Pulling my hand, she placed it on her leg and tilted my head up at her face, "What do you say, hmm?"

Now I can appreciate a beautiful woman, and the paladin's code says nothing about how to handle personal relationships, provided they don't interfere with our veneration of the Light. But she didn't know that, and I'd be damned if I was going to give these Night Elves the satisfaction of seeing me walk off with some trollop. Plus, she was an elf herself, a High Elf, but an elf nonetheless.

"Sorry, toots," I said, holding up my libram, "I don't fool around with heathens."

She pulled back, a look of disgust on her face, "Oh, yeah, you're one of those Light-worshipping prudes with a staff up their ass."

"No, I'm one of those Paladins of the Silver Hand," I replied, opening my book again, "Now take a powder, you're in my light."

Fiora slapped me across the back of the head, "Priest, paladin, what's the difference, you're still a fucking loser."

"The difference," I said, not getting up, "is priests convert souls for the Light." I pulled my hammer out and laid it on the table, "I claim them."

Seeing the error of her ways, Fiora backed off. She was still angry but slightly crestfallen, I could tell. What could I say, you can't blame a working girl for trying, and it's not like humans are all that common in these parts. Still, she'd get her daily bread whenever the next ship from the Dwarven lands came in. I looked at the innkeeper again, and the stuck up elf gave me a condescending look. Hey, don't look at me, I thought, it's your furniture, not mine. Another hour rolled on with little to break the sound of light rain and lapping waves, until at last I spotted my contact arriving.

Now I was raised among Night Elves, so I know how they think, how they act. Their lives are a constant droll existence of walled off emotions and bitter cynicism with a streak of nationalism thrown in just in case you thought you'd find an admirable trait under their otherwise soul-crushing dispositions. The world could be falling apart around them and they'd still haul you off to dig up relics or fend off Naga. This chick though, she took the cake. Bright eyes, soft face, the kind of sweet inquisitive look that drives a guy wild. Well, another guy, someone who hadn't seen their dark side. All done up like some wandering druidic student. She saw me sitting there and came over. I wasn't exactly hard to spot, being the only human in the entire town and wearing full chainmail to boot. Pulling out a chair, she took her seat.

"Are you Sir Abrams?" she asked.

I looked her over again, she was younger elf. Not that most humans could tell the difference, even without their vaunted immortality elves were a naturally long-lived race. Still, when you live with them it becomes obvious which ones have felt the sting of when life attacks and which ones are still green. Or… purple. Either way she looked fresh out of the school of the Cenarion Circle.

"Sir?"

"Call me Jack," I replied, "Jack Radical."

"Uh…huh. Well, I'm Anya Starcaller, the one who filed the contract."

"I know who you are," I said.

She pulled a map out of her satchel and sprawled it across the table, "I've come to tell you that the rest of the party has assembled at the shores of Ashenvale." She pointed to the entrance of the ruins, identified as the Blackfathom Deeps. Pictures of Naga were scribbled around the name. "They'll be ready to begin the expedition tomorrow."

"I'm ready to leave," I said, closing my libram. I might as well get this over with, I thought to myself.

The druid hoisted herself up with her walking staff, "Wonderful, I shall accompany you then."

I threw my hammer and shield onto my back and started out towards the road south, the druid shadowing me out of town. The road wasn't particularly dangerous, especially since we were only heading to the northern end of Ashenvale, but Burning Blade cultists were sighted nearby. Such miscreants wouldn't usually bother a roaming paladin, but a lone Night Elf? I looked back at her; this Anya was busy gawking at the ocean, the trees, everything except the road, like some kind of goblin tourist. I got the feeling she was fresh off the boat.

"How long have you been in Moonglade?" I asked.

Anya's attention snapped forward, "Oh, I've lived there almost my whole life. I just came to Darnassus last year."

Wonderful. "And just what interests you in these Naga-infested ruins?"

"Several thousand years ago these were elven cities, the artifacts inside could give us insight into our history. The Naga presence there only confirms my hypothesis that a -"

I tuned her out, goddamn elves and their history lessons. My own reasons for taking this contract were far more important than uncovering yet more clues as to how the elves blew Kalimdor in half. Reports of Burning Blade agents in southern Darkshore were troubling, especially so close to Naga territory. If the two were after the same power source, or worse, working together, I needed to know about it and if at all possible put an end to it. I just prayed to the Light that I'd find the rest of the party more capable.

The afternoon wore on as we travelled south, the elf prattling on about her culture and the significance of this expedition like she was leading us to some lost holy land. She was halfway through her schpeal about the Highborne when I stopped. She walked into me, and being almost a foot taller, nearly doubled over.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"I heard something," I said under my breath, straining to see through the mist.

"Oh for Elune's sake," she replied, continuing down the path, "You forget, I'm a druid of the circle. If there were any dangerous beasts I would know about it."

"Get back here," I muttered. I wasn't worried about the wildlife.

The elf looked at me with scorn as she walked on, "Honestly, and in Night Elf lands no less. No creature here would dare harm you so long as I'm around."

I watched the trees. Sensing their evil magics as she went, I knew what was coming, but I wasn't about to fall into a trap for her sake. Discretion is the better part of valor and all that. She kept walking. Besides, I thought, she was so overconfident, it was time she learned what life was like outside of her enclave. Maybe taking a shadowbolt to the face would teach her some patience. And anyway, the paladin's code only required lawfully good actions, not lawfully stupid ones. I gave her fair warning, no use getting myself blasted.

Oh, god damn it, fine.

I ran to catch up to her, my chain mail clanking with every heavy step. With one swift motion I drew my hammer and shield, and in a flying grab, tackled the elf to the ground. Magical bolts flew overhead; she was safe.

Scrambling to my feet I caught sight of the first mage, already winding up another spell. With a cry of judgment and a swing of my weapon he fell prone; it was hammer time. *WHACK!* The mage's head exploded in my righteous fury, bits of cultist flying through the air. His counterpart across the road fired a bolt at me and I felt the black magic rip through my armor.

"FOR THE LIGHT!" I cried. Charging forward, my hammer glowing in holy power, I struck the mage in the chest like a batter hitting a ball. The mage easily soared twenty feet, rolled a couple of times, and stopped at the foot of a tree, his chest cavity glowing with my holy fury. Raising my hammer, I discharged its magic, the judgment turning the knave into dust. Glorious victory.

My foes crushed, I turned back to the blasted elf. She was still lying on the ground, appearance far more disheveled, and staring in disbelief. Strutting forward I shouldered my shield and slammed my hammer into the ground, standing over her, leaning on it like a cane. Timidly getting to her feet, she dusted off her simple leather armor and picked up her staff.

"What was that you were saying?" I asked.

She looked at me with a touch of humility, "I'm sorry, Sir Ab-Jack, you are obviously a well travelled paladin. I should have regarded your caution."

Now in my twenty nine years on this plane I've seen a lot of things, but if you'd asked me before, I'd say you're more likely to see Deathwing return before you'd see an elf admit they were wrong and to a human no less. I looked at Anya like I'd look at a unicorn. A really adorable unicorn with glowing, apologetic, silvery eyes that melt your heart. And nice tits. Somehow, I just couldn't be mad.

"Just keep your bearings next time," I said.

Anya gave me a little smile, "Thank you." With that she began leading the way again. This near-death experience seemed to sink in, as the rest of the trip to Ashenvale she was a little more alert and a lot quieter. By the time the ruins came into view I'd managed to shake off whatever lingering effects that cultist's magic might have had and prepared to meet the other poor saps who got roped into this fool's errand. I found the remaining three members of our party gathered around a campfire.

"Fellows," Anya said addressing the ragtag group, "This is Jack Radical, a paladin of Stormwind."

The three nodded or waved halfheartedly, they were obviously quite tired from the journey. The dwarf sitting beside me extended his hand. He looked to be from the Bronzebeard clan. The gun by his side gave him away as a hunter. "Good to meet ye, name's Grelmen," he said.

"Well met," I replied, shaking his hand.

The two beside him were Night Elves. The first, a male who looked as young as Anya, introduced himself as Dorvin. Judging by the large axe beside him I guessed this was going to be our muscle. Then he introduced his older sister, the priestess Alnet.

"So, er, Jack was it?" the priestess asked.

"Yes."

She eyed my gear over suspiciously, "What is it you bring to the party exactly?"

I took hold of my shield and hammer, "I'm your bulwark through these wretched ruins."

Alnet gave me a skeptical look, "A paladin tanking? Pardon me but I thought your type was better at healing the wounded."

It was a common misconception among the mercenary and adventuring communities that paladins were not as adept at hand to hand combat or battlefield command as pure warriors, and strictly speaking we weren't. But an ounce of experience is worth a pound of potential. Maybe it was the fact I was tired, or maybe I was just fed up with elves, or maybe it was her obnoxious privileged accent, but it took all my well-practiced resolve to keep from planting my hammer between her eyes. Anya must have noticed this because she stepped in before I had a chance to break our party dynamics into several bloody pieces.

"Jack is more than capable. He single-handedly thwarted two cultists laying in ambush on our way here," she said. "I trust him with my life."

"By your word," Alnet replied.

"What, might I ask, is it you're doing here?" I asked her, still pissed.

The priestess glared at me, "I am here to bring Elune's wrath to the Naga."

Fantastic, a caster. That meant Anya would be healing this little shin-dig. It also meant the priestess was expendable. Not that I would let a Naga through my defenses on purpose to take out a troublesome party member or anything. With the introductions done, the long walk over with, and the night upon us, I decided it would be best to get some sleep. The Night Elves regarded me strangely as this was basically midday for them, but the dwarf figured I had the right idea and passed out by the fire. I leaned against a tree and took a nap.

I was awoken a few hours later by Anya shaking my foot. The party was getting ready for the expedition, and they needed me to take point. Hammer and shield in hand I lead the group forward through the ruins. The deep water was a bit of a struggle in full chainmail but fortunately most of the underground caverns were dry enough and resistance getting inside was light.

Once inside though, every step was impeded by Naga forces. Numerous as they were incompetent, our group forced our way through. Dozens of Naga fell to my hammer alone, although Grelmen took the prize for most killed that day. I don't know where Anya dug him up but she had an eye for quality dwarves.

"Ye seem to be having a hard time keeping up, laddie," Grelmen told me as we walked through the tunnels, "Want me to ease up and leave a few?"

"Keep talking, dwarf. We'll see how pretty you look when you're out of ammo," I replied.

Grelmen chuckled, "I'll tell ye what then," he dropped half the contents of his ammo pouch on the ground, "just to keep it interesting, eh?"

"Oh you'll regret that."

Alnet scowled, "What in Elune's name are you doing?"

"Relax, lass," Grelmen said, "I've been wrestling Naga with me bare hands since ye were suckin' yer mother's teat."

She didn't seem amused, "I'm over four centuries old, dwarf."

"Really? Well I'd call that mission accomplished then."

"What are you talking about?"

Grelmen shot me a grin, "We found our Night Elf relic!"

I just about busted a gut, dropping my shield on the floor of the tunnel. Grelmen's booming laugh echoed off the walls as he slapped a glaring Alnet on the back, "Oh come on, lass."

"You are absolute fools, both of you," she said through gritted teeth.

Dorvin looked skeptically at Anya, "Where did you dig these two up?" Alnet looked at her, as though expecting some explanation for our continued existence.

Anya simply shrugged, "They were willing to assist in the expedition."

"Aye, and before ye go complaining about Jack and I shouldering the burden perhaps ye'd best start putting yer back into it," Grelmen said, "My grandpappy could swing an axe harder than that!"

Grelmen had a point. The two siblings held their own in combat but were nothing spectacular, strange considering how highly they regarded these ruins.

"Perhaps the paladin could try keeping the enemy's attention," Dorvin replied.

Before I could respond, the dwarf jumped in, "Jack's solid as a rock, now quit yer bellyachin'."

Dorvin was going to say something but they all let the subject drop as we encountered yet another Naga around the corner. From then on our progress was steady all through the morning, almost to the point of tedium. Winding underground passages, murdering Naga, murdering Murlocks, murdering satyrs, nothing seemed to slow us up. Then we hit the heart of the ruins.

This massive Highborne complex was half submerged and completely overrun with the Burning Blade, just as I suspected. I was really hoping I'd been wrong, like about dwarven women having beards. Fortunately they were too busy with some ritual to notice our party slip in and we had the drop on them. I motioned for the dwarf to circle around to the end of the large underground cove where he would distract them, planning to take their flank as soon as they moved away from the primary stone channel system leading to the submerged temple at the far side. Grelmen got in position, threw down a trap, and gave me the signal.

I gave him the all clear. The next thing I heard was a loud *CRACK* echoing through the tunnels behind us. The cultists ran towards him and right into a frost trap. The evil mages and their elemental servants dragged themselves through the freezing ground as the two elves charged forward, slaying the helpless cultists where they stood. I joined in the fray as well, while Anya stayed back to patch us up with her healing magic. Even with strategy on our side though, these cultists were a cut above the scattered Naga we'd faced.

By the time we fought our way into the temple half the party was bleeding and Anya was thoroughly exhausted. The cultists put up a hell of a fight to keep us out, but that just steeled my resolve. Whatever they were hiding in here must be important to them I thought, and that meant it was important I keep it out of their clutches. Anya seemed equally determined to make it inside. This was after all her pay dirt. When we made it into the actual temple itself though what we found was less Highborne golden age architecture and more the sunken remains of their declining civilization. Statues and reliefs in the shapes of demons lined the walls, and in the center of the grand hall, a tribute to the sinister Lady Vashj herself. I could see the despair in Anya's face as the party slogged forward.

"No, this is just… this is horrible," she said. Her hand ran along one of the sacrificial braziers, "It's all demonic veneration."

"You probably shouldn't touch anything in here," said Alnet, "It could be cursed."

She couldn't have been more right. As Anya lifted her hand, the brazier lit in twisted unholy flames. From either side of the room altered water elementals materialized and immediately charged us. I leaped into action and smashed their gelatinous forms with my magical hammer, but elementals are strange beings for mortal races to fight. It's never a clean victory, and their icy spells left us battered. To make matters worse, as soon as they fell, waves of frenzied wildlife took their place. We desperately tried to stem the flow of enemies from all sides. Tortoises the size of horses, angry makura, and swarms of crabs the size of dogs came out of nowhere, spawned by black magic. When the last fiendish sea monster fell, I looked back on the party.

The dwarf was out of ammo and was for the better part of the last battle trying to fend off the creatures with an enormous glaive he'd picked up off a Naga earlier. Anya was exhausted, her magic almost totally expended, and Alnet looked no better. Dorvin was holding a seeping wound in his chest where a makura managed to slice him open and was barely able to raise his axe. I wasn't doing well myself, half my armor was torn off and my shield was battered into scrap. Still, we were all alive, and we were victorious! The Naga were routed, the Burning Blade were destroyed, and the vile sanctuary's magics were conquered. We'd struck a great blow to Azeroth's enemies this day!

Then the stone wall behind us opened.

I looked to see what was coming but it was far too murky to make anything out. The earth trembled like from the footsteps of an ogre. Something was bearing down on us, but no one seemed able to tell what it was. Everyone clutched their weapons and backed away from the cavern.

"This is it, lads, I say we make tracks while we can!" Grelmen said, inching towards the stone channels that lead back to the cove.

"Agreed, we accomplished our mission," Alnet responded.

Dorvin squinted into the darkness, then turned on his heels, "RUN!"

All five of us took off as the creature forced its way into the temple. A massive, white sea serpent, towering all the way to the highest arches of the cathedral ceiling, scrambled forward on two front legs. Its three enormous heads snapped at us in hunger. The monster smashed its way through the entrance and was hot on our heels as we made for the channels. As we ran, I saw it nearly take an arm off Dorvin, and any traps Grelmen threw at it seemed to have no effect. This beast was never going to let us leave here alive.

The paladin's code demands self sacrifice for the good of others. This can be loosely interpreted to varying degrees, and god knows I'd done enough of that in my time. But now, with everyone heels and elbows towards the door, just a few moments could mean the difference between all four of them making it out, or no one. There was no room for interpretation. I knew what must be done.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I turned to face the monster. It roared in defiance as I wielded my magical hammer above my head, charging its holy power. I struck the creature with the judgment of the Light and it recoiled in pain, lashing at me with its claws. One of them caught my shredded armor and hurled me towards the side of the cove. I smashed into the wall, but somehow managed to find my feet. The creature charged me again, but I held my ground. Striking hard and true I smashed my hammer into its thick hide, sending a bolt of holy magic deep into its wound. The beast snapped at me, breaking my arm, before hurling me like a ragdoll towards the other end of the cove. I hit the water like a pebble in a pond and scrambled out to catch my breath, only to be struck by the fiend's colossal tail. Then everything went black.

I awoke some time later. I wasn't sure when, and I was nowhere near the Highborne temple. It seemed I'd drifted through the shallow waters on some broken makeshift cultist dock, as I was surrounded by splintered planks from the cove. Gradually I tried to move but found it almost impossible. Even though my brain wasn't able to properly process pain yet and I was still too foggy-headed to know which way to go, I knew I'd nearly been split in two. My left arm was broken and dangled uselessly in the sand as I leaned on my good knee. My left leg was broken, I couldn't stand. Carefully, I pulled myself towards the exit. There was no sign of any of the others, it seemed they'd abandoned me or given me up for dead, not that I could blame them. My magic was failing me and there was no way I'd be able to get myself back to civilization in this state.

This was it, I thought. I was going to die in these cursed tunnels. I reached for my hammer and found it amongst the debris. Carefully I used it as a cane and hobbled a few steps forward; it was a worthy end. I'd fought valiantly and slew the foe I set out to destroy. I died in the line of duty, defending those who depended on me so they might escape with their lives. Bitchin'.

I only made it about fifty feet before I collapsed to the sandy tunnel floor. Blood was oozing from my back and I could no longer feel my arm. I heard shuffling ahead of me, but I couldn't find the strength to lift my head to look. Likely more Naga moving in, those cursed fish-people were relentless. I heard the charge of a nature spell and waited for the Light's sweet embrace. Then a feeling of warm energy filled my body. I could move my arm again and I was no longer bleeding. Gingerly I tried to stand but my leg was still messed up. I fell again, only to be caught by the arm. It was Anya.

"What are you doing here?" I asked gruffly.

Anya hunched down and pulled my arm over her shoulder, "Everyone got out okay. I came back to look for you with Grelmen, but he gave up when he saw the creature's footprints in the tunnels. He said you were dead."

"He was pretty much right," I said, "You should have left me, that thing could still be around."

"That's why we need to get you out now," she replied. Anya pulled me along through the tunnels, guiding me over the broken terrain. Fortunately I'd managed to drift pretty close to where we came in, so it didn't take too long for her to drag my half dead carcass outside. She put me down in a little campsite close to the road and well clear of those damnable Highborne ruins. A simple tent, a cook fire, and a few blankets never looked so much like a mansion to me.

As I rested by the fire, Anya charged up another spell. Her magic was still pretty weak, but as the healing touch washed over my body I found I could move my leg again, and my arm was no longer as weak. I felt less broken but more bruised, like I'd fallen down every flight of stairs in the Cathedral. "Thanks," I said simply, laying my head back, "But why'd you come back for me anyway? And where is everyone?"

"Alnet and Dorvin left for Darkshore as soon as we got out of the ruins. Grelmen went to set some traps, he said something about catching his own dinner." She poked at the campfire, "Anyway, I did owe you for saving me from that ambush on the way here."

"Yeah, but you all owe me for that stunt at the cove today," I replied, "You're lucky paladins don't keep score."

She took a seat beside me in the grass, "I feel like an absolute fool, this entire expedition was a travesty and I nearly got everyone killed for nothing."

I sat up and looked at her, "Nothing? I don't think so. We slew Naga, we destroyed an entire chapter of the Burning Blade, and you discovered the purpose of the Highborne temple. This was a glorious triumph!"

Anya laughed, "That's one way to look at it I suppose."

"It's the only way to look at it," I said, "What good is it to sit around thinking about what could have been? What we did is what mattered, and we did great deeds today." I clenched my fist, the remnants of my chain gauntlet still clinging to my fingers, "This is victory!"

"A pyrrhic victory perhaps," she replied.

I shook my head and lay back down. Anya leaned over next to me, "You know, you're the first human I've ever met."

"Somehow I'm not surprised, we don't usually hang around Moonglade," I said.

She smiled at me, her glowing silver eyes like the pale stars just starting to come out, "I admit, when I first saw you I wasn't impressed. You humans are rather… what's the word."

"Brash? Harsh? Inconsiderate?" I asked, "I'm not trying to imply anything but I've lived with enough elves I can play the averages."

"Well yes all of those, haha!" she said, "But no, I was going to say adorable."

That feeling you get when your hammer strikes a living slime for the first time. That weird, not really existent thud of incorporeal mass just absorbing every mote of aggression into a strange sensation of clobbering water. That's exactly what this felt like. Every established defense mechanism and knee-jerk reaction, every distrustful emotion was thrown completely off kilter. Adorable? How do you respond to that?

She brushed a few strands of my dark brown hair from my face, "You're so strong willed and independent and abrasive, yet you risked your life for me twice and you barely know me. You fight with ferocity enemies that would even make our sentinels pause and you don't even come up to the shoulder of the shortest Night Elf."

I pulled away a little, this was not the way I imagined things turning out at all, "Yeah, well, it comes with being a paladin."

Her fingers ran down the side of my face and around the back of my neck, "Does it? Or is it what you think a paladin should be that drives you to such deeds?" She pressed herself closer to me, "You're a good man, you just don't want to admit it."

This was ridiculous. First this chick, this ELF chick, calls me adorable. A mighty paladin of the Light being talked about like a kitten, it was shameful. Now she's trying to tell me she knows me better than I know myself? Trying to put the moves on me while what, calling me short? Geez, this girl needs to get out more. And of course I have to just sit here and take it because I was critically injured on some harebrained mission she dragged me out here for in the first place. I'd march myself back to Darkshore on one leg if I had to. How old was she anyway? She seemed kind of young for an elf, but I guess when your life is measured in centuries it kind of throws the perspective off. Still, I felt like a chump, some lapdog being coddled out of patronizing sympathy. I don't fool around with clients and I sure as hell don't fraternize with elves.

Oh, god damn it, fine.

I looked her in the eye, wrapped my good arm around her waist and pulled her beside me on the grass, "Come here, sweetie, I'll show you just what kind of a man I am."

Anya rolled on her back, grinning from ear to comically elongated ear. Undoing her scraped up leather armor, she pulled it over her head, arching her back and thrusting her chest upwards. Her breasts popped into the cool evening air, well proportioned and flattering on her tall figure but easily the bigger than any human girl I'd known. I could see what all those elf fetishists were on about down at the creepy bar. You know the one; it has all the warlocks in the basement. Taking a moment to remove my gear, I leaned over this gorgeous girl and kissed her, straddling her hips as I did. At this point I became acutely aware of two things, the first being that elves are really freaking tall. I practically had to lay down flat to reach her lips. The second is that Night Elves have fangs. They're pretty small so I guess I never really noticed, but my god did she know how to use them. It was like a vampire fantasy only I didn't need to worry about turning into an undead. That almost happened once.

Her tongue played along my skin, fangs nibbling my neck. My fingers stroked her back through her silken green hair and the smell of sweet fresh cut oak filled my nose. I felt myself getting a little cramped in my mail armor so I pulled away to throw off my shirt. Even in the heat of the moment I was still taken aback by just how much damage I took. This was my first good look at the number the hydra had done to my body. I was black and blue all across my chest, my stomach, everywhere my armor covered. Anya winced in empathy when she saw it.

"Are you sure you're okay for this?" she asked.

I pulled off my ragged chain pants and undid the cloth ones beneath, "Don't worry about it, I've been through worse." Truth be told it hurt like a motherfucker, but nothing turns a woman on like a guy who's in a hell of a lot of pain but suffers through for their benefit.

Stripping off her leather slacks, Anya pulled me back over. My bad arm and bad leg still couldn't support my full weight so I ended up sort of falling on top of her with a wince. Maybe I couldn't handle it.

"Oh, sorry!" she said, leaning up.

"I'm fine, but maybe we should switch this up," I said, still trying to right myself.

With a nod she sat up. I rolled over, the cool grass feeling wonderful against my aching back, and pulled her on top of me. It was a little strange, I'd never actually had a girl ride me before, but it felt so much better than leaning on almost broken limbs. Anya straddled me and once again I realized just how tall she was. Carefully she positioned herself, letting my cock rest between her legs as she slowly started to grind her pussy. Sweet warm elf juices slicked my shaft as I pressed against her with the rhythm. Back and forth, every time she got into it just a little more, her soft breasts grazing my chest.

Leaning forward, I took one in my hand and kissed it, licking her nipple until it was nice and hard. A little moan from her let me know I was on the right track so I did the same with the other, making sure to keep slowly bucking into her grind. As her arm reached around my back she ran her fingernails down my skin. It felt delicious. Every time she pressed her ass against my thighs I could feel my leg start to give but I didn't want to stop. Reaching down I caressed her soaked labia, letting her know I was ready to get down to business as I maneuvered my cock inside. As she got situated I ran my hands along her thighs and back around to her ass. Talk about a considerable rear shelf, this girl had an ass you could bounce a silver off of.

Careful not to hurt me, Anya started bobbing up and down on my dick, her pussy making a cute little *schlick* sound every time. I moved with her, but as she started to get into it she began to get pretty rough. I decided to just tough it out, there was no turning back at this point, even though a nearly seven foot tall girl was bouncing on what not fifteen minutes prior was a broken leg. Talk about self sacrifice for the sake of others. I tried to keep the motion going; it helped keep the strain on my good leg and gave me a chance to get a solid handful of that sweet, sweet ass. Anya's eyes closed as she went harder, her panting keeping time with my thrusts. Her pitch got just a little higher as I managed to get just a little deeper until it sounded like she was within kicking distance of orgasm.

Anya started going full steam and it was hard for me to keep up, my body just wasn't in good enough shape. Damned elf, I knew this was a bad idea, why did I let myself get roped into this? I should have just stuck with the nurses in Stormwind, now there's some experienced mercy dispensers. Taking hold of her hips I tried to guide her onto my right side, taking some of the pressure off, but she kept pushing me back down. Frustrated, I bucked sharply.

"aaaaAAH!" she cried, her body beginning to tremble. I felt my cock getting pressed against her cervix as she leaned over me, losing her metaphorical shit. She pressed her legs against my hips as I proceeded to finish her off. Now that she wasn't hell bent on breaking my leg again I was actually able to get a pretty decent rhythm going. Clenching her breast in her hand, she held herself up on my chest and gasped aloud. Warm liquid oozed out onto my sac as her entire body trembled on top of me, her jagged breaths adding to an almost pained expression, as opposed to my actual pained expression from actual pain.

Tenderly she leaned over to kiss me, her panting and sweaty body indicating at the very least a valiant effort on my part. She nibbled my ear, "Did you finish?"

"You're crushing my ribs," I responded.

"What? Oh goddess, I'm sorry!" Anya pulled herself off and allowed me to breathe easy for a bit. It wasn't the most painful sex I'd ever had, but it wasn't comfortable. Everything ached, and vigorous activity, however sexy, wasn't helping. Seeing that I was still throbbing hard, Anya took hold of my shaft and started stroking. I could only sigh as she kissed my tip, her fingers tracing and caressing my tightening sac. Now this I could handle.

Her head started to bob as her tongue worked wonders on my dick, every so often taking a moment to lick the length of my shaft. I stroked her hair, caressed her skin, and tried hard not to end up whacking her enormous ears by mistake. I was already pretty warmed up so it didn't take much before I felt a climax of my own building. Anya laid down in the grass and wrapped her boobs around my dick, leaving just enough exposed to suckle on. Titjobs are a risky game best left to the professionals, as like a dragon fruit, they look a hell of a lot better than they are to indulge in. It takes a certain kind of panache and experience to pull them off and this girl didn't have it. Nevertheless, she got props for trying, and by god did she. She had those sweet doe eyes, which under the night sky looked just like two little stars staring right into my heart. I played with her hair as she sucked my dick between her two soft breasts, occasionally stopping to try some new move. It didn't matter though, I was holding back at this point just to see what would happen next.

I tugged her hair and curled my toes a bit, "I'm gonna cum, girl!"

She pulled up and started licking my tip, mouth open wide. I let out a groan as a white ribbon of cum shot out, half of it ending up on her face, the other half all over her rack. As the last few drops were squeezed out my cock was licked clean. A heavy sigh escaped me as I lay back in the grass, now thoroughly exhausted. What a hell of a ride this turned out to be. I looked over at Anya who was busy trying to dab the semen off her chest with a rag. She gave me a smile and sat beside me.

"Are you feeling any better now?" she asked.

I nodded reflexively but I actually was feeling pretty relaxed.

At this point I heard a rustling in the underbrush by the road. Anya and I both turned our heads to see Grelmen returning, a dead rabbit in his hands. He stopped as soon as we came into view; me sprawled out on the grass, Anya still covered in semen, and both of us completely naked.

After a few moments of silence, I started to speak, "Umm, I ca-"

"You're alive!" Grelmen bellowed, "I knew ya had it in ye!"

Anya and I looked at each other, then back at the dwarf. "Yeah, thanks Grelmen," I said, covering my junk with my hand.

Through a hearty laugh he said, "Don't worry I'll be on me way, god knows yah've earned it, eh?" He walked up and grabbed what was left of his belongings. As he passed by Anya he said with a wink, "What I tell ye? Solid as a rock."

"GRELMEN!" I shouted.

He continued to chuckle as he left the campsite. Anya and I sat there for a while in silence, making sure he was gone. She shook her head in disbelief as I put my cloth pants back on. The fire was starting to die down and it was getting chilly out, so I ended up crawling into the little canvas tent she had staked and bundling up in a blanket. Although normally Night Elves are wide awake at this time, it was pretty clear Anya hadn't slept since the previous day and was downright exhausted after that little exercise. After folding her things and placing them by the fire, she fumbled inside the tent and laid down next to me. There was barely enough room for both of us in there, so we ended up snuggling through the night. I'm a big snuggler but it's not befitting a mighty paladin. Still, I make exceptions, and for a chick this, dare I say, adorable... well, how could I say no? Nevertheless, we both ended up passing out almost as soon as we were comfortable.

We didn't wake up until about noon the next day. Anya rolled out of the tent, threw on her leather outfit, and shook me awake. "Hey, you want some breakfast for the road?" she asked.

"I can't move," I replied.

"What?"

Overnight every single bruise, strained muscle, and freshly mended wound had become as hard as rock. I felt like my entire body was being crushed by a slab of stone. Anya chucked a bit and charged up a healing touch spell. Within moments the wave of healing energies washed over me and I was able to get up. My muscles were still pretty stiff, but it was one hell of an improvement. Over breakfast I asked about her plans now that the expedition was over.

"Oh, I plan to head out to Astranaar, I heard there's more ruins in the western end of Ashenvale. I have a theory they're connected to these here," she said.

"You'd better be careful, there's Horde out in that direction," I replied. I knew the Horde of Ashenvale better than probably any Night Elf, although that was a whole other story.

"After what happened in the Blackfathom Deeps, you know I will," she said. "What about you, where are you off to?"

I looked at the warm cup of bean stew in my hands and idly swirled it around, "Probably head back to Stormwind. I have a report to file after what we found regarding the Burning Blade, and my armor needs to be repaired."

"I see, I wish you the best," she replied.

I wolfed down the rest of the stew and rinsed the cup out. Grabbing what was left of my ratty armor I shouldered my hammer, "I'd best be heading out so I can get to Darkshore while the boats are still running. Take care of yourself, Anya."

"Yeah, thanks, you too, Jack Radical."

There was a hint of sadness in her as I left; I could tell she wasn't used to this kind of thing. Poor girl probably didn't get much attention like this in Moonglade. Still, goodbyes are better short and sweet, plus she obviously knew where to look me up. Hmph, look at me, a paladin of the Silver Hand swooning over some elf broad. I could use some time in Stormwind to get my head straight, away from all these fucking Night Elves. Heh... haha, 'fucking Night Elves.' 


End file.
